Wait Here
by lolalliecatz
Summary: Written for tumblr's Kuvira week 2k15. Day 1: Childhood. Kuvira listens when her parents tell her to "wait here," not recognizing what that means until it is too late. Unedited for the most part.


"Wait here sweetie, okay?"

Perhaps it was because she was too young, or because she was too euphoric over the day's events that Kuvira did not recognize the sad look in her mother's eyes when she said that. It was rare when her parents were able to take time off from their jobs, and even rarer that they would spend that day at a festival in a totally different city with their daughter. Kuvira's family was not rich, or even working class for that matter. In fact, even in their poor neighbourhood, they were among the least fortunate. Families of nonbenders always had a harder time making ends meet than benders. It was the sad truth of this world – nonbenders simply were poorer and had fewer opportunities in life than their bending counterparts. Her parents had hoped that their daughter would show the capabilities that neither of them had, but she was already eight and showed no such promise.

To her mother's suggestion, Kuvira nodded enthusiastically, still not fully recognizing that sorrow in her parents' expressions. Maybe they were a little sad because they had to go back to work tomorrow, and they couldn't have fun like this again today? That must be it. Kuvira was sad about that too, honestly. She wanted nothing more than to be able to have fun with her parents every single day like how today was.

"We'll be right back, alright? We love you very much." This time, it was her dad who spoke, since Kuvira's mother had turned around so her daughter wouldn't see the tears beginning to form in her eyes. Again, the child just nodded, sporting a toothy grin, which only broke her father's heart even more.

He hugged her tightly and then gestured for her to sit on the nearby bench. After a heartfelt yet goofy salute to him, she skipped over and sat down. Her feet didn't quite reach the ground, and so she swung them happily while humming a soft tune that her mother would sing to her at night.

She watched her parents' figures walk away until they were no longer visible to her eyes.

And then she waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

By the time she decided to finally get off the bench, it was dark, and the street was deserted.

"Mom…? Dad…?" She first spoke softly, and then soon began shouting for her parents. Though it was as if no one heard her; this was more of a city than she was used to…maybe no one could hear her because of everything else going on? Not that it mattered…she wanted her parents, not some stranger.

Her little legs began to run as fast as they could in the direction she had seen her parents disappear hours ago. Her mother had told her to wait, yes, but now Kuvira was scared, and just wanted to run back into her parent's warm embrace.

And so she ran.

And ran.

And ran until she physically could no longer.

Kuvira collapsed on the ground, finally realizing that they weren't coming back. Something must have happened…surely they did not leave her there all alone on purpose? They loved her! She was their little girl and they loved her, they said so every night.

But they never came back.

They promised they would come back.

 _Why…?_

With that realization, Kuvira began to cry. She sobbed almost violently, crying loudly as she remained slouched on the ground, which began to shake around her. Small pebbles began to float in the air, but she did not seem to recognize or care about them. Only when a piece of thrown away scrap metal floated in front of her eyes did her sobs begin to calm, partially giving way to a sense of wonder.

She was an earth bender.

Not only that…she was a _metal bender_.

Kuvira held her hands up to guide the piece towards her. She kept it suspended in the air; it felt almost as if it was a part of her. Much more a part of her than the earth underneath her body, anyway. She stared at it, as if it would give her some answers as to why her parents would just leave her here. Softly, she began to hum that tune her mother would sing at night, as if the piece of metal was listening intently.

If only she had discovered this hours earlier.

Perhaps then she wouldn't be alone.


End file.
